"Watch out that no one deceives you. For many will come in my name, claiming, 'I am the Christ,' and will deceive many. You will hear of wars and rumors of wars, but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come. Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be famines and earthquakes in various places. All these are the beginning of birth pains.

"Then you will be handed over to be persecuted and put to death, and you will be hated by all nations because of me. At that time many will turn away from the faith and will betray and hate each other, and many false prophets will appear and deceive many people. Because of the increase of wickedness, the love of most will grow cold, but he who stands firm to the end will be saved. And this gospel of the kingdom will be preached in the whole world as a testimony to all nations, and then the end will come." (Matt. 24:414 NIV) Things are going to get bad, really bad, before they get better. And when conditions worsen, "See to it that you are not alarmed" (v. 6 NIV). Jesus chose a stout term for alarmed that he used on no other occasion. It means "to wail, to cry aloud," as if Jesus counseled the disciples, "Don't freak out when bad stuff happens."

The disciples were making a big to-do over the buildings of the Jerusalem temple. Impressed with the ma.s.sive hewed stones-some of them nearly twenty-four feet long-the followers applauded the awesome structure with its variegated marble that resembled the waves of the sea. Jesus was not so impressed. " 'Do you see all these things?' he asked. 'I tell you the truth, not one stone here will be left on another; every one will be thrown down' " (Matt. 24:2 NIV).

Imagine someone forecasting the collapse of the White House, Buckingham Palace, or the Louvre. Wouldn't you want some details? The disciples did. "Tell us, when will these things be? And what will be the sign of Your coming, and of the end of the age?" (v. 3).

Sitting on the Mount of Olives, in full view of the temple and the City of David, Jesus issued a "buckle your seat belt, no kidding, life can be fatal to your health" warning.

He began with "Watch out that no one deceives you. For many will come in my name, claiming, 'I am the Christ,' and will deceive many" (vv. 45 NIV). Note the twofold appearance of the word many. Many deceived and many deceivers. Churches are petri dishes for self-serving egomaniacs who masquerade as ministers of G.o.d. They will do so "in his name," claiming a special status, a superior spirituality. They boast of insider information and adorn their teaching with phrases like "G.o.d told me . . . ," "G.o.d spoke to me . . . ," "G.o.d led me . . . " They present themselves as religious gurus, code breakers, members of an inner circle, implying that they have access to knowledge unavailable to the common person. Some even position themselves as Jesus himself, "saying, 'I am the Christ' " (v. 5).

Jose Luis de Jesus Miranda is among them. He does not merely talk about or pray to Jesus. This man claims to be Jesus reincarnate. Unlike Jesus of Nazareth, this would-be Jesus from Puerto Rico teaches that there is no sin and that his followers can do no wrong. Thousands of adherents in more than thirty countries have swallowed his Kool-Aid.2 Don't be misled, Jesus warns. Don't be wooed by their slick appearances, silver-tongued oratory, or performances. Later in the same sermon Jesus said, "False Christs and false prophets will appear and perform great signs and miracles to deceive even the elect-if that were possible" (Matt. 24:24 NIV).

Mult.i.tudes and miracles. Large audiences and spectacular deeds. Throngs of people. Displays of power. When you see them, be careful. High volume doesn't equate with sound faith. Don't be impressed by numbers or tricks. Satan can counterfeit both.

Filter all messages and messengers through these verses: "And who is a liar? Anyone who says that Jesus is not the Christ. Anyone who denies the Father and the Son is an antichrist. Anyone who denies the Son doesn't have the Father, either" (1 John 2:2223 NLT). False prophets always minimize the role of Christ and maximize the role of humanity. Be doctrinally diligent. Stick to one question-is this person directing listeners to Jesus? If the answer is yes, be grateful and pray for that individual. If the answer is no, get out while you still can.

Along with heresy we can expect calamity. "You will hear of wars and rumors of wars, but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come. Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be famines and earthquakes in various places. All these are the beginning of birth pains" (Matt. 24:68 NIV).

Nature is a pregnant creation, third-trimester heavy. When a tornado rips through a city in Kansas or an earthquake flattens a region in Pakistan, this is more than barometric changes or shifts of ancient fault lines. The universe is pa.s.sing through the final hours before delivery. Painful contractions are in the forecast.

As are conflicts: "wars and rumors of wars." One nation invading another. One superpower defying another. Borders will always need checkpoints. War correspondents will always have employment. The population of the world will never see peace this side of heaven.

Christians will suffer the most. "Then you will be handed over to be persecuted and put to death, and you will be hated by all nations because of me. At that time many will turn away from the faith and will betray and hate each other, and many false prophets will appear and deceive many people. Because of the increase of wickedness, the love of most will grow cold" (Matt. 24:912 NIV).

Paradise is populated with people whose deaths fulfilled this prophecy. Peter. Paul. Stephen. James. Ignatius of Antioch. Polycarp. Justin Martyr. Origen. The world hated these Christ-followers.

Hatred still abounds. Voice of the Martyrs, a Christian agency that defends religious liberties, contends that more Christ-followers have been killed for their faith in the last century than all previous centuries combined. The names of Paul, James, and Peter have been joined by Tsehay Tolessa of Ethiopia, Xu Yonghai of mainland China, Mehdi Dibaj of Iran.3 The Global Evangelization Movement reports an average of 165,000 martyrs per year, more than four times the number of a century past.4 America, proud as she is of religious freedom, suffers from increasing anger toward Christians. Professors publicly mock Bible-believing students. Talk-show hosts denigrate people of faith. We can expect the persecution to increase. When it does, fragile convictions will collapse. "The love of many will grow cold" (v. 12 NLT). Spiritual stowaways will jump ship. The halfhearted will become coldhearted. A great many church attenders will be disclosed as faith pretenders. They will not only leave the faith; they will make the lives of the faithful miserable.

Will this persecution come to us? For some of you it already has. For many of us it might. If we are thrown into jail for our faith or deposed for our convictions, may G.o.d help you and me to remember the counsel of Christ: "See to it that you are not alarmed" (v. 6 NIV).

Don't freak out at the heresy, calamity, and apostasy. Don't give in or give up, for you'll soon witness the victory. "But he who endures to the end shall be saved. And this gospel of the kingdom will be preached in all the world as a witness to all the nations, and then the end will come" (vv. 1314).

Jesus equipped his followers with farsighted courage. He listed the typhoons of life and then pointed them "to the end." Trust in ultimate victory gives ultimate courage. Author Jim Collins makes reference to this outlook in his book Good to Great. Collins tells the story of Admiral James Stockdale, who was a prisoner of war for eight years during the Vietnam War.

After Stockdale's release Collins asked him how in the world he survived eight years in a prisoner-of-war camp.

He replied, "I never lost faith in the end of the story. I never doubted not only that I would get out, but also that I would prevail in the end and turn the experience into the defining event of my life, which, in retrospect, I would not trade."

Collins then asked, "Who didn't make it out?" Admiral Stockdale replied, "Oh, that's easy. The optimists. . . . they were the ones who said, 'We're going to be out by Christmas.' And Christmas would come, and Christmas would go. Then they'd say, 'We're going to be out by Easter.' And Easter would come, and Easter would go. And then Thanksgiving, and then it would be Christmas again. And they died of a broken heart."5 Real courage embraces the twin realities of current difficulty and ultimate triumph. Yes, life stinks. But it won't forever. As one of my friends likes to say, "Everything will work out in the end. If it's not working out, it's not the end."

Though the church is winnowed down like Gideon's army, though G.o.d's earth is buffeted by climate changes and bloodied by misfortune, though creation itself seems stranded on the Arctic seas, don't overreact. "Be still in the presence of the Lord, and wait patiently for him to act. Don't worry about evil people who prosper or fret about their wicked schemes" (Ps. 37:7 NLT).

Avoid Pollyanna optimism. We gain nothing by glossing over the brutality of human existence. This is a toxic world. But neither do we join the Chicken Little chorus of gloom and doom. "The sky is falling! The sky is falling!" Somewhere between Pollyanna and Chicken Little, between blind denial and blatant panic, stands the levelheaded, clear-thinking, still-believing follower of Christ. Wide eyed, yet unafraid. Unterrified by the terrifying. The calmest kid on the block, not for lack of bullies, but for faith in his older Brother. The old people of G.o.d knew this peace: "Though a host encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war arise against me, yet I will be confident" (Ps. 27:3 RSV).

After the bombs of World War II ravaged downtown Warsaw, only one skeletal structure remained on the city's main street. "The badly damaged structure was the Polish headquarters of the British and Foreign Bible Society, and the words on its only remaining wall were clearly legible from the street . . . 'Heaven and earth will pa.s.s away, but my words will never pa.s.s away.' "6 This is the picture of the Christian hope. Though the world may collapse, the work of Christ will endure.

So, see to it that you are not alarmed (Matt. 24:6 NIV).

"See to it . . . " Bosses and teachers are known to use that phrase. "See to it that you fill out the reports." Or "Your essay is due tomorrow. See to it that you finish your work." The words call for additional attention, special focus, extra resolve. Isn't this what Christ is asking of us? In this dangerous day, on this Faberge-fragile globe, with financial collapse on the news and terrorists on the loose, we have every reason to retreat into bunkers of dread and woe.

But Christ says to us, "See to it that you are not alarmed" (NIV).

"Keep your head and don't panic" (MSG).

"See that you are not troubled" (nkjv).

"Be faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life" (Rev. 2:10 RSV).

Make sure the hull of your convictions can withstand the stress of collisions.

Builders of the t.i.tanic should have been so wise. The luxury liner sank because contractors settled for cheap rivets and suffered from poor planning. Rivets are the glue that hold the steel plates together. Facing a shortage of quality bolts, the builders used substandard ones that popped their heads upon impact with the iceberg.7 How st.u.r.dy are the bolts of your belief? Reinforce them with daily Bible readings, regular worship, and earnest communion with G.o.d. "Courage is fear that has said its prayers."8 And remember: "All these [challenging times] are the beginning of birth pains" (Matt. 24:8 NIV), and birth pangs aren't all bad. (Easy for me to say.) Birth pains signal the onset of the final push. The pediatrician a.s.sures the mom-to-be, "It's going to hurt for a time, but it's going to get better." Jesus a.s.sures us of the same. Global conflicts indicate our date on the maternity calendar. We are in the final hours, just a few pushes from delivery, a few brief ticks of eternity's clock from the great crowning of creation. A whole new world is coming!

"These things must come to pa.s.s" (Matt. 24:6). Must is a welcome word that affirms that all events, even the most violent, are under a divine plan. Every trial and trouble has a place in G.o.d's scheme. "The reason why we ought not be terrified is not because wars are not terrifying. Quite the contrary. It is because above all chaos reigns a divine plan."9 All things, big and small, flow out of the purpose of G.o.d and serve his good will. When the world appears out of control, it isn't. When warmongers appear to be in charge, they aren't. When ecological catastrophes dominate the day, don't let them dominate you.

Let's trust our heavenly Father in the manner Peter Wirth trusted his earthly one.

Peter was a twenty-one-year-old university student when he began to experience severe pain in his right shoulder. He called his father for advice. Most students would do the same: call home for counsel. But few students have a better parent to call in such a situation. Peter's father, Michael, is a world-renowned orthopedic surgeon who specializes in shoulders. Peter calling Dr. Wirth with a shoulder problem is like Bill Gates's daughter calling him with a software question.

Michael initially attributed Peter's pain to weight lifting. But after numbness and tingling set in, the doctor grew suspicious of an extremely rare shoulder condition called deep venous thrombosis. A clot was forming in his son's shoulder, dangerously close to his heart. Michael was not only acquainted with the condition; he had coauth.o.r.ed the paper on how to treat it. He sent Peter to the emergency room and told him to request an ultrasound. Turns out, Michael's long-distance diagnosis was right on target. Peter was immediately admitted to the hospital, where the clot was dissolved, and his earthly life was extended.

Wouldn't it be great to have such a father?

We do. He has diagnosed the pain of the world and written the book on its treatment. We can trust him. "Everything will work out in the end. If it's not working out, it's not the end."

CHAPTER 14.

The One

Healthy Terror

They fell on their faces and were greatly afraid. But Jesus came and touched them and said. "Arise, and do not he afraid."

MATTHEW 17:6-7 Fear of G.o.d Getting Out of My Box A woman in the hotel check-in line was holding one of my books under her arm. I was hesitant to introduce myself lest she explain that her doctor had prescribed the volume as insomnia treatment. But I took the risk. She actually said she liked it. But on second glance she didn't believe that I was who I claimed to be.

She flipped open the dust jacket, looked at my picture, then up at me. "You're not Max Lucado."

"Yes I am. The picture on the book was taken many years ago; I've changed."

With no smile she looked again at the photo. "No," she insisted, "Max Lucado has a mustache, no wrinkles, and a full head of hair."

"He used to," I explained.

She wouldn't budge. "He still does."

I started to show her my driver's license but opted to let her live with her delusion. After all, if she wanted to remember me as a thirty-year- old, who was I to argue?

Besides, I understand her reluctance. Once you have someone pegged, it's easier to leave him there. She had me figured out. Defined. Captured. Freeze-framed in a two-by-three image. Max-in-a-box.

Boxes bring wonderful order to our world. They keep cereal from spilling and books from tumbling. When it comes to containing stuff, boxes are masterful. But when it comes to explaining people, they fall short. And when it comes to defining Christ, no box works.

His Palestinian contemporaries tried, mind you. They designed an a.s.sortment of boxes. But he never fit one. They called him a revolutionary; then he paid his taxes. They labeled him as a country carpenter, but he confounded scholars. They came to see his miracles, but he refused to cater. He defied easy definitions. He was a Jew who attracted Gentiles. A rabbi who gave up on synagogues. A holy man who hung out with streetwalkers and turncoats. In a male-dominated society, he recruited females. In an anti-Roman culture, he opted not to denounce Rome. He talked like a king yet lived like a pilgrim. People tried to designate him. They couldn't.

We still try.

My taxi-driving friend in Brazil kept a miniature Jesus superglued to his car dashboard. Anytime he needed a parking place or green light, he rubbed his plastic do-me-a-favor Jesus.

The preacher occupying the midnight broadcast time slot a.s.sured me and other late-night cable viewers that prosperity was only a prayer away. Just ask the make-me-a-buck Jesus.

I once reduced Christ down to a handful of doctrines. He was a recipe, and I had the ingredients. Mix them correctly, and the Jesus-of-my- making would appear.

Politicians pull box-sized versions of Jesus off the shelf, a.s.serting that Jesus would most certainly vote green, conservative; often, never; like a hawk, dove, or eagle. The Jesus-of-my-politics comes in handy during elections.

Box-sized G.o.ds. You'll find them in the tight grip of people who prefer a G.o.d they can manage, control, and predict. This topsy-turvy life requires a tame deity, doesn't it? In a world out of control, we need a G.o.d we can control, a comforting presence akin to a lap dog or the kitchen cat. We call and he comes. We pet and he purrs. If we can just keep G.o.d in his place . . .

Peter, James, and John must have tried. How else can you explain this box-blowing expedition on which Jesus took them?

Now after six days Jesus took Peter, James, and John his brother, led them up on a high mountain by themselves; and He was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, and His clothes became as white as the light. And behold, Moses and Elijah appeared to them, talking with Him. Then Peter answered and said to Jesus, "Lord, it is good for us to be here; if You wish, let us make here three tabernacles: one for You, one for Moses, and one for Elijah." While he was still speaking, behold, a bright cloud overshadowed them; and suddenly a voice came out of the cloud, saying, "This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased. Hear Him!" And when the disciples heard it, they fell on their faces and were greatly afraid. But Jesus came and touched them and said, "Arise, and do not be afraid." When they had lifted up their eyes, they saw no one but Jesus only. (Matt. 17:18) The high points of Scripture seem to occur on the high points of earth. Abraham offering Isaac on Mount Moriah. Moses witnessing the burning bush on Mount Sinai. Elijah ascending to heaven from h.o.r.eb. Christ redeeming humanity on a hill called Calvary. And Jesus peeling back his epidermis on Mount Hermon.

No one knows for sure, but most historians place this event on a 9,200-foot-tall mountain called Mount Hermon. It towers over the northern Israeli landscape, actually visible from the Dead Sea a hundred miles away. This gigantic, snowy peak was the perfect place for Christ to retreat with Peter, James, and John. Away from the clamoring crowds and nagging controversies, Jesus could have the undivided attention of his three closest friends. Together they could look out over the turquoise-colored Sea of Galilee or the great plain, lumpy with vine-clad hills. Here they could pray. "He [ Jesus] took Peter, John, and James and went up on the mountain to pray" (Luke 9:28). Christ needed strength. He was only months from the cross. The spikes of the soldiers and the spite of the crowd loomed ahead. He needed fort.i.tude to face them, and he wanted his followers to see where he got it.

At some point while praying, the gentle carpenter who ate matzos and shish kebabs and spoke with a Galilean accent erupted into a cosmic figure of light. "He was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, and His clothes became as white as the light" (Matt. 17:2).

Light spilled out of him. Brilliant. Explosive. Shocking. Brightness poured through every pore of his skin and st.i.tch of his robe. Jesus on fire. To look at his face was to look squarely into Alpha Centauri. Mark wants us to know that Jesus' "clothes shimmered, glistening white, whiter than any bleach could make them" (Mark 9:3 MSG).

This radiance was not the work of a laundry; it was the presence of G.o.d. Scripture habitually equates G.o.d with light and light with holiness. "G.o.d is light; in him there is no darkness at all" (1 John 1:5 NIV). He dwells in "unapproachable light" (1 Tim. 6:16 NIV). The transfigured Christ, then, is Christ in his purest form.

It's also Christ as his truest self, wearing his pre-Bethlehem and postresurrection wardrobe. Not "a pale Galilean, but a towering and furious figure who will not be managed."1 One "who is holy, blameless, pure, set apart from sinners" (Heb. 7:26 NIV). A diamond with no flaw, a rose with no bruise, a song on perfect pitch, and a poem with impeccable rhyme.

In a flash Peter, James, and John were mosquitoes in an eagle's shadow. They'd never seen Jesus in such a fashion. Walk on water, multiply bread, talk to the wind, banish demons, and raise the dead, yes. But a standing torch? Turns out, Jesus was just getting warmed up.

Two visitors appeared: Moses and Elijah. The giver of the Law and the prince of the prophets stepped through the thin veil that separates earth from paradise. "They were speaking about his exodus from this world, which was about to be fulfilled in Jerusalem" (Luke 9:31 NLT).

Moses and Elijah, the Washington and Lincoln of the Jewish people. Their portraits hung in the entryway to the Hebrew Hall of Fame. And here they stood, the answer to Jesus' prayer. Don't we half expect Peter, James, and John to repeat their Sea of Galilee question: "What kind of man is this?" (Matt. 8:27 NIV)? The steward of the Law and the teacher of the prophets respond to his bidding?

About this point Peter cleared his throat to speak. Fire on the mountain became foot in the mouth. "Lord, it is good for us to be here; if You wish, let us make here three tabernacles: one for You, one for Moses, and one for Elijah" (Matt. 17:4).

These words might seem harmless to us, even a good idea to some. We like to memorialize moments with statues, tablets, or monuments. Peter thinks this event deserves a special building program and volunteers to head up the committee. Good idea, right?

Not from G.o.d's perspective. Peter's idea of three tabernacles was so off base and inappropriate that G.o.d wouldn't permit him to finish the sentence. "While he [Peter] was still speaking, behold, a bright cloud overshadowed them; and suddenly a voice came out of the cloud, saying, 'This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased. Hear Him!' " (v. 5).

Beloved means "priceless" and "unique." There is none other like Christ. Not Moses. Not Elijah. Not Peter. Not Zoroaster, Buddha, or Muhammad. No one in heaven or on earth. Jesus, the Father declared, is not "a son" or even "the best of all sons." He is the "beloved Son."

Peter missed this. He placed Christ in a respectable box labeled "great men of history." He wanted to give Jesus and Moses and Elijah equal honor. G.o.d would have none of it. Christ has no counterparts. Only one tabernacle should be built, because only one person on the mountain deserved to be honored.

Peter, James, and John didn't speak anymore. No more talk of building programs. No discussion of basilicas, tabernacles, memorials, or buildings. They were submariners reaching the Mariana Trench, astronauts landing on the lunar surface. They saw what no other people have seen: Christ in cosmic greatness. Words don't work in such a moment. Blood drained from their faces. Skin ashened. Knees wobbled and pulses raced. "They fell on their faces and were greatly afraid" (v. 6).

Fire on the mountain led to fear on the mountain. A holy, healthy fear. Peter, James, and John experienced a fortifying terror, a stabilizing reverence of the one and only G.o.d. They encountered the Person who flung stars into the sky like diamonds on velvet, who whisked prophets away in chariots and left Pharaoh bobbing in the Red Sea.

They were gripped deep in their gut that G.o.d was, at once, everywhere and here. The very sight of the glowing Galilean sucked all air and arrogance out of them, leaving them appropriately prostrate. Face-first on the ground. "They fell on their faces and were greatly afraid" (v. 6).

This is the fear of the Lord. Most of our fears are poisonous. They steal sleep and pillage peace. But this fear is different. "From a biblical perspective, there is nothing neurotic about fearing G.o.d. The neurotic thing is not to be afraid, or to be afraid of the wrong thing. That is why G.o.d chooses to be known to us, so that we may stop being afraid of the wrong thing. When G.o.d is fully revealed to us and we 'get it,' then we experience the conversion of our fear. . . . 'Fear of the Lord' is the deeply sane recognition that we are not G.o.d."2 How long since you felt this fear? Since a fresh understanding of Christ buckled your knees and emptied your lungs? Since a glimpse of him left you speechless and breathless? If it's been a while, that explains your fears.

When Christ is great, our fears are not.

As awe of Jesus expands, fears of life diminish. A big G.o.d translates into big courage. A small view of G.o.d generates no courage. A limp, puny, fireless Jesus has no power over cancer cells, corruption, ident.i.ty theft, stock-market crashes, or global calamity. A packageable, portable Jesus might fit well in a purse or on a shelf, but he does nothing for your fears.

This must be why Jesus took the disciples up the mountain. He saw the box in which they had confined him. He saw the future that awaited them: the fireside denial of Peter, prisons of Jerusalem and Rome, the demands of the church, and the persecutions of Nero. A box-sized version of G.o.d simply would not work. So Jesus blew the sides out of their preconceptions.

May he blow the sides out of ours.

Don't we need to know the transfigured Christ? One who spits holy fires? Who convenes and commands historical figures? Who occupies the loftiest perch and wears the only true crown of the universe, G.o.d's beloved Son? One who takes friends to Mount Hermon's peak so they can peek into heaven?

Ascend it. Stare long and longingly at the Bonfire, the Holy One, the Highest One, the Only One. As you do, all your fears, save the fear of Christ himself, will melt like ice cubes on a summer sidewalk. You will agree with David: "The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?" (Ps. 27:1).

In the book Prince Caspian, Lucy sees Aslan, the lion, for the first time in many years. He has changed since their last encounter. His size surprises her, and she tells him as much.

"Aslan," said Lucy, "you're bigger."

"That is because you are older, little one," answered he.

"Not because you are?"

"I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger."3 And so it is with Christ. The longer we live in him, the greater he becomes in us. It's not that he changes but that we do; we see more of him. We see dimensions, aspects, and characteristics we never saw before, increasing and astonishing increments of his purity, power, and uniqueness. We discard boxes and old images of Christ like used tissues. We don't dare place Jesus on a political donkey or elephant. Arrogant certainty becomes meek curiosity. Define Jesus with a doctrine or confine him to an opinion? By no means. We'll sooner capture the Caribbean in a b.u.t.terfly net than we'll capture Christ in a box.

In the end we respond like the apostles. We, too, fall on our faces and worship. And when we do, the hand of the carpenter extends through the tongue of towering fire and touches us. "Arise, and do not be afraid" (Matt. 17:7).

Here's my hunch. Peter, James, and John descended the mountain sunburned and smiling, with a spring in their step, if not a slight swagger. With a Messiah like this one, who could hurt them?

Here's my other hunch. Mount Hermon's still ablaze and has s.p.a.ce for guests.

Conclusion William's Psalm At 8:17 on the evening of March 3, 1943, bomb-raid sirens bansheed through the air above London, England. Workers and shoppers stopped on sidewalks and boulevards and searched the skies. Buses came to a halt and emptied their pa.s.sengers. Drivers screeched their brakes and stepped out of their cars. Gunfire could be heard in the distance. Nearby antiaircraft artillery forces launched a salvo of rockets. Throngs on the streets began to scream. Some people threw themselves on the ground. Others covered their heads and shouted, "They are starting to drop them!" Everyone looked above for enemy planes. The fact that they saw none did nothing to dampen their hysteria.

People raced toward the Bethnal Green Underground Station, where more than five hundred citizens had already taken refuge. In the next ten minutes fifteen hundred more would join them.